


Underground

by ichiharu23



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: Gangsters, Ieyasu's TMR DLC, Lots of adult stuff, M/M, Strippers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 12:55:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5968081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ichiharu23/pseuds/ichiharu23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Gangster/Stripper AU] Banished from his own gang due to a mistake he had made in the past, Masamune would do anything to clear his name and earn back his home. His friend Motochika came along for the ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to Hell

**Author's Note:**

> Touzai trio~! Also, since no one tried writing anything with Ieyasu’s TMR DLC yet, here goes~ \o/ (although it won’t appear until Chapter 2 or so… orz;;)

([Cover art](http://kurotenko.tumblr.com/post/139263423039/gangsterstripper-au-cover-page-for-this-fic) by [kurotenko](http://kurotenko.tumblr.com/) ^3^)

* * *

 

【 **Chapter 1: Welcome to Hell** 】

“Motochika, you dickhead. You take that off of him too, and you won’t leave even a shred of dignity left in him,” Masamune said rather nonchalantly, relaxing himself as he leaned against the nearest wall of the broken building, trying to light the cigarette in his mouth as another man’s blood trailed down from his knuckles.

Motochika, crouching nearby with his hands gripping at the boxers of a heavily bruised and bloodied man on the floor, replied with an annoyed click of his tongue.

“But Masamune! It may be underwear, but it’s expensive as fuck. Think of all the cash we can rake in by making and selling the fakes!”

Masamune glared at him as a warning. Motochika returned a hearty laugh.

“No worries, just fucking with ya. Haha!”

He stood up and stepped back, walking past Masamune as he shoved most of the cash they had stolen into his pockets, and threw the rest at their men, their underlings, as bonus for the success of their little gang war tonight. At the sight of the bills, they had immediately dove towards them hungrily and fought amongst themselves like starved dogs, as if their lives depended on each strip of the papers thrown at them.

“Boys, chill and be nice! By the time we’re done with this, we’ll make sure that you’re all swimming in them!” Motochika ordered them.

In the meantime, Masamune walked towards the bleeding man on the ground.

The room was a horrible mess. He walked past toppled plants, broken windows, bullet holes on the sofas and the walls, papers strewn all over the floor, and dead bodies. Plenty of dead bodies. The sounds of shattered red-stained glass cracking and crunching under his leather boots was as though it marked the coming of a God of Death.

Each step he took and the sharp look in his dragon eye made the man on the floor cringe as he pitifully rolled over onto his stomach, attempting to drag himself away as if he could still escape.

Masamune frowned at the sight. It reminded him all too well of himself. Of how his own father, head of his gang, had lashed out angrily at him and had him violently beaten up just last month, despite being his heir, due to a serious mistake he had made. Afterwards, he had immediately been thrown out of his own house and left to fend for himself.

Forcing the bitter memory out of his mind, Masamune’s gloved hand reached out and grabbed the crawling man by the hair.

“Arghhh…,” the man growled painfully as Masamune pulled his head closer, crouching down and talking softly but boldly into his ear.

“Well, I hope we’ve learned our lesson here. Now you’re going to go home and tell your sorry gang’s boss that Dokuganryu Masamune had come to take this area. This turf belongs to my Family, the Dokuganryu, now. _Are we clear_?” He pulled the man’s hair even harder at the last part, threatening.

“Y-Y-Yes!! P-Please let me go!” The man choked out, begging.

“Good,” Masamune smirked, letting him fall to the ground.

He watched as the man hurriedly pulled himself up, whimpering like a scared animal as he ran away as fast as he could without turning back to give a second glance. He sighed in exhaustion.

“Hey, Masamune!”

He turned lazily to look when he heard Motochika call him. There were some survivors from the attack standing with him, all huddled together and shivering in fear. Remnants of the small group they had just destroyed together.

“D-D-Dokuganryu Masamune! P-Please forgive us for our insolence!” Their leader spoke up. Masamune could smell his nervousness, but the man forced himself to continue despite that.

“We had seen how you commanded your men and how strong you and the Dokuganryuu Family is. We’re wondering if you… If you’d allow us to switch sides and join you…?”

“………,” Masamune looked at them through half-lidded eyes for awhile, before walking over to them. They cringed as he got closer. But to their surprise, Masamune’s earlier cold tone had been replaced with a much gentler, friendlier one.

“Well, the Dokuganryu is still a small and growing group. I’m certainly short on members at the moment. So if you promise to work well and go by the Family’s code, we’ll welcome you with open arms and treat you well.”

The thugs he talked to looked up at him in disbelief. They immediately fell to their knees at his feet and bowed to him deeply several times.

“Dokuganryu-sama! We thank you! We will not let you down!” They cried. Masamune looked to Motochika and his men.

“Take them back to our base. They’re part of us now and you are to treat them like brothers,” Masamune ordered, “And be sure to get a warm bath ready for when I return.”

“Yes, Oyabun!” The men affirmed, before shuffling out.

Masamune sighed again, glad that their little scuffle for tonight was finally over. He made his way to the building’s broken windows, looking out to the night city that sprawled below them, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth and blowing out the smoke. After a moment of silence, he spoke up.

“You not leaving with the others? You can go home first if you want,” he asked, feeling that Motochika’s presence was still lingering in the room as the latter watched him from the back.

“No, man. Especially in this part of town, and after all we’ve been through, I suggest we stick together. If someone suddenly shows up and shoots ya dead, what am I s’posed to do?”

Masamune looked back with a lazy smile. Motochika walked up to him and joined him in enjoying the view.

“Thoughtfulness appreciated,” Masamune replied, blowing his cigarette smoke out the window.

The smoke wafted out of the building and into the stale air of the city, up towards the stone ceiling that stretched endlessly above them. Below that, stretched an equally endless red light district, where gangs, crime, murder, gambling and prostitution ran rampant, unbridled.

This city was where the hands of law and justice could not reach. A sanctuary and a place to live for all the outcasts and outlaws that had been thrown away by the society. A place where morals did not exist. And it was run by only one rule.

Power dictates everything.

This was the underground city of Ura-mikawa.

And from the eyes of Masamune and Motochika, outsiders who had just been forced into the place recently, it was Hell.

They were only lucky that they knew how to fight and survive. Or else they’d be writhing under the shoes of other criminals, like many others down here had, denied even of their basic human rights. Masamune snuffed his cigarette against the cement wall and threw the butt out the window.

But for all the fucked up shit that it was, this city that had developed across the whole underground stretch of the ghost district of Mikawa was a heaven of entertainment for a lot of gangs, even those who had come for occasional visits from above the ground. Seeing how it was a good place which can churn out floods of its own cash, and was practically untouchable by the law, many gang heads had been eyeing the turf, wishing to rule it and increase their gang’s influence by doing so.

Masamune’s reason for entering this place? He had come to claim this entire hell hole as his own. And he swore he would use any means necessary to do it, so he could make his father proud, clear his name, and earn his place back at his own gang, the proud Date of the Oushuu District.

His total control over this city would be his only salvation from the mistakes he had done in the past, and his only ticket back home. But he knew that it wouldn’t be an easy task.

Masamune turned around to leave, pulling his leather biker jacket closer to himself.

“Let’s go and get some rest, Motochika. We still have a long way to go.”


	2. Guilt Trip

_“Hahaha! Friend, you may have ended up in defeat, but I must thank you for providing me with this much entertainment! No one had ever managed to reach this far into my mansion that I have to fight them personally,” Ashikaga Yoshiteru, head of the Ashikaga Family, the most influential gang in all of the crime-ridden city of Hinomoto, laughed in amusement, flicking the blood clean of the katana he was wielding._

_Upturned tables, broken expensive vases, discarded weapons, pools of blood, and the dead bodies of the Date men who had lost their lives trying to rise up against him littered the surroundings in a glorious mess._ _Their leader, Date Masamune, was kneeling down on the floor across him. His personal guard Katakura Kojuro laid in his shivering arms, incapacitated and bleeding severely from a large gash across his abdomen._

_Kojuro had taken a heavy blow for him, barely managing to arrive at the scene on time to save his life. Seeing how everything that happened didn’t even manage to make Yoshiteru break a sweat, and how the other was treating everything like child’s play, anger overrode the fear in Masamune’s eye as he glared up at him, biting into his lower lip until it bled. Kojuro’s hand weakly curled into and pulled at his collar._

_“Masamune… sama! He’s too powerful for you,” He choked out, “Look at all the lives that had already been lost! Stop all this nonsense at once. Greed and excess pride will not get you anywhere. Run and return immediately to the Date base like your father had asked! He might still forgive you–…”  
_

_“Kojuro…!” Masamune glared down at him and pulled his hand off his shirt, lowering him to the ground, “If father sent you here only to lecture me, I’m not listening! Father was a coward for not even daring to go up against this little piece of shit! A true dragon would never turn tail and run!”_

_He used the last of the six swords he used to have to force himself up, ignoring the pain from the cuts all over his body, and ignoring Kojuro’s pleading eyes. It had taken him ages and cost him a lot of lives and money to get this far. He wasn’t about to just let it go and come home empty handed. His pride wouldn’t let him._

_Masamune straightened himself, spat the blood out of his mouth, and once again pointed his sword at Yoshiteru, murderous intent burning in his golden dragon eye._

_“Listen here, asshole! The one who would rule the entire city of HInomoto would be us the Date. Not you. Not anyone else. And I’m going to shove you off your stupid throne to get that right if I have to!”  
_

_Masamune held his sword tightly and readied himself to fight._

_“Hahaha, friend, how fascinating! I shall gladly accept that challenge, then!” Yoshiteru only laughed at him, enjoying the situation as he lazily picked up a second sword, as if mocking him.  
_

_Without a second thought, Masamune charged at him, refusing to allow his opponent to have the first strike._

_But one silent swing of the bigger man’s blade…_

_And Masamune saw the blade of his own sword shattered into pieces before him._

_“…Eh?” His eye widened in disbelief as time seemed to stop. He saw Yoshiteru grin a victorious grin, as his other blade swung towards his neck._

_“MASAMUNE-SAMAAAA…!!!!”  
_

_Kojuro’s blood splattered all over him as he took the deadly blow for him the second time._

—

Masamune awoke with a gasp. He sat up, immediately covering his mouth to prevent himself from throwing up due to the disturbing visions.

He swallowed a few times, taking in deep breaths to calm himself. It took him a while before he managed to return his breathing to normal. When he finally did, he sighed in relief. Nightmares, memories, guilt… He didn’t know what to call that certain part of his past that had been plaguing him every night.

“Kojuro…”

The last time he saw him around last month, his loyal guard had fallen into a coma due to the heavy injuries that he had sustained, before his father Terumune had come to save them by grabbing the two and running away immediately.

Kojuro was a good member of the clan and had always been Terumune’s personal favourite. Most likely a huge reason why his father had lost it and kicked him out, Masamune thought.

Then again, his attempt at fighting the Ashikaga for the right to rule the entire city had caused him to lose a big part of the Date Family’s members. All those loyal and able underlings whom he had managed to convince and had put their trust in his victory… Every single one lost overnight due to his stubbornness. His father and the clan elders had called him a disgrace to the Date name and…

Deciding that he was too tired to continue with the dark string of thoughts, he decided to shove them back into the far corners of his mind and look around.

He seemed to have fallen asleep earlier, while he was taking a dip at the Shiraume, an indoor onsen that laid in the turf he first captured. The waters here were nice, warm and calming, so he closed his eyes, leaned back, and decided to allow himself to relax some more.

“Hey!”

Masamune jumped, splashing about in the water as he nearly lost his shit at the sudden voice. He turned around to look at the intruder.

“Pfft!” Motochika was holding back a laugh as he watched his friend’s surprised reaction. Annoyed, Masamune splashed the hot water at him, who jumped back to dodge it.

“Stop that!” Masamune complained.

“Ahaha! Sorry, man! Y’told me to go out first but ya never came out yourself. Thought you died or something, so I came back to check! Hahaha!”

“Saikai, seriously, you’re a dick,” Masamune told him half jokingly, half seriously, as he climbed out and wrapped his towel around his waist. Motochika shrugged.

“………,” Masamune looked up at him earnestly then, “Well, you’re a real dick, but still… I’m grateful that you had decided to come with me and help me out with everything we’re doing right now. If we succeed, I owe you big.”

Motochika just smiled at him, “Aww, c’mon, don’t say that. We’re friends, more like brothers even, and I can’t just sit and watch when you’re in trouble, can I? I mean you would help as well if I was the one in need, wouldn’t you?”

Masamune grinned at him and nodded, “Indeed.” He stretched a little.

“ _Hmm_ , either way, I’m not in a very good mood at the moment. Said you found a pretty good strip club somewhere, didn’t you? Maybe playing with the girls a bit might be a nice refreshment. Or the boys. Whatever.”

If there was one thing Masamune liked about this underground city, it was that they would never run out of entertainment. Since it kept the economy going, members of different gangs were free to go into each other’s turfs as long as they didn’t stir up trouble or start shit. And as long as you were not particularly enemies with the ruling gang, no one would give a damn if you want to fuck in their backyard as long as you pay the big bucks that was necessary for it.

Motochika returned a grin to Masamune’s request.

“Got’cha. I could use some entertainment myself. Leave the driving to me,” he said.

“Oh, and be sure to wear some nice clothes. We’re going into some expensive area at the center of town, and it wouldn’t do to go there looking like a hooligan off the streets.”


	3. Dancer

Although the residents of Ura-mikawa existed as one large community, there was an unspoken divide that seemed to cut the underground city into two, almost equal halves. The powerful Oda Family exercising their strong influence over the East, and the massive Toyotomi Family with their crushing iron grip on the West.

The two gangs being the major powers, any other gang would think twice before trying to pick trouble with them. In fact, most had decided to form alliances with either one. Desperate measures to avoid being crushed.

“Simply put, the Oda and the Toyotomi are the biggest fishes here. And they hate each other,” Motochika concluded his explanation, turning his attention back on the road as he drove the old car that they had found in the junkyard. He had fixed it up and gotten it back up and running with his mechanic skills.

“My sources told me that tension was slowly building between the two as they both continue growing in strength. We’re still all peaceful and happy right now, but looks like it won’t take long until they’re tired of waiting and start a full-blown war. …To decide the final ruler of this whole place.”

“Hmph… Well, too bad for them, that ruler would be me,” Masamune scoffed. Motochika laughed.

“Hey, hey. Not so fast, haha. You _don’t_ want whatever happened at old man Ashikaga’s place to repeat itself, do you? So let’s take it slow and prepare properly. To reach your goal, first learn to survive.”

The mention of the past event working like a bitter medicine, Masamune scoffed again, folding his arms and frowning, looking to the road ahead to divert his attention. “So what’s the plan?”

Motochika thought for awhile, trying to recall things, “My informant advised me that, if we wanna even survive, we’d better ally with either one of them first. They’re hunting down the smaller gangs right now because they’re easy target. For turf, weapons, and anything they could use, it seems. Might come for us next week, might come for us tomorrow, especially if we’re not their friends.”

Masamune sighed, “ _Dammit_ , Motochika, isn’t that a little fucked up? We had just got here and just barely settled down, and we’re already running into some tight spot…”

“I know. But it’s totally unforgiving down here, though. Let’s make our choices quickly. If anything, this alliance is only to buy us some more time. We can make use of the Oda and the Toyotomi’s rivalries to our own benefits later.”

“Hmph, guess there’s no other choice… Which one’s better for us to ally with?” Masamune asked.

“The two gangs… They’re almost equal in strength. Equally brutal and unforgiving. Equally… rotten. The Oda threatens everyone with fear while the Toyotomi tramples over the weak without exception. Doesn’t look like it matters which side you choose to me.”

“……,” Masamune leaned back in his seat and thought for a bit, analyzing the situation.

“Well, you can take some time to think. Maybe looking around the center of town tonight might give you some ideas,” Motochika suggested, “By the way, here. Your badge.”

“Badge…?” Masamune asked as Motochika passed him a bronze, plum flower-shaped badge.

“A fake. Made it. Pretty cool, right? Haha,” Motochika bragged, pinning one to his own collar.

“The strip club we’re going to would be one of the Oda’s biggest ones. Can you guess the quality~?” He whistled. “This badge is proof that we’re one of the Maeda Family’s loyal and quite high-ranking underlings. They’re a pretty big gang that is old friends of the Oda, so this will get us quite a huge discount and save us a giant hole in our savings!”

Masamune grinned at him, “Can’t say I like being anyone’s underlings, but damn you and your piracy, Motochika. It’s certainly being wonderfully useful right now.”

“And I’m sure it would be in future as well,” Motochika grinned back, rather proud of his profession as an unrivaled master forger. Masamune had come to him for help quite a bit in the past, eventually developing a strong friendship with him.

“Anyways, we’re here,” Motochika said, driving a turn and parking their car a little away from their destination. Mostly to hide the fact that it was a broken down car instead of the expensive one they should be coming in to fit their roles.

“Remember, this is the Oda’s place, so have fun, but keep your ears open. Might hear some juicy info or something,” he told as they got down. He stopped Masamune before they proceeded.

“Also, we’re supposed to be new members who don’t know much about the higher ups yet. Don’t talk too much, don’t drink too much, and most importantly, don’t start shit and break your cover,” he advised, “They won’t hesitate to gun you down on spot if they find you suspicious.”

“……,” Masamune stared at him. Motochika being this paranoid and warning him this much must mean that this was some serious business. So he nodded and heeded his words.

“ _Alright_.”

—–

After having their badges checked, having themselves searched thoroughly, and having all their weapons left outside, the two had gone in. Masamune walked into the most expensive-looking strip club he had ever seen.

The hall they had entered was wide and very lavishly decorated, with a high ceiling and big red tapestries having the Oda crest, sewn into them with golden threads, hanging from the walls. They were walking on soft, carpeted floors, with a lot of tables and chairs neatly placed in front of them, the guests seated there enjoying delicious meals and drinks. Colorful beams of light glided and lit the dark room. Across them on the large, extravagantly decorated stage, a group of well-trained and seductively dressed strippers danced at the pole to the sound of skillfully played music.

The place reminded Masamune more of a professional grand theater rather than the average strip clubs he had visited before. While he was looking around, he felt Motochika’s elbow nudge at at him, his friend motioning for him to look at the stage. So he did.

Currently taking the center of the stage was a young male dancer. The black straps he wore showed off a body so well built anyone would start wondering if he was actually working this business. But he danced well, his movements fluid and his body flexible, accompanied by a beautiful smile on his charming face. Masamune could tell that he was a professional, with a body used to pleasing others.

The two found it quite hard to take their gaze off the dancer as he moved along the pole in rhythm with the beat of the music. They continued watching him from where they were standing until he finished with a flourish and bowed gracefully to the audience.

“And that concluded the performance of our star dancer, Tosho. A round of applause!” The host announced.

The audience’s cheers and loud applause that rang through the hall afterwards told the two newcomers that the dancer was pretty popular.

“Tosho, huh…? Nice,” Masamune commented, “And I thought we’re only for the ladies. Too bad we didn’t get to see it from the start.”

“Haha, maybe next time, then! Maybe next time,” Motochika patted his shoulder, picking off a glass of alcohol from a passing waitress, proceeding to wink at her before turning back to his friend.

“Y’know, let’s split up for now. Shouldn’t be any problem if we just blend in and enjoy. Just call my number or message me when you’re done. Don’t forget to have fun,” he continued, waiting for Masamune to nod before walking away.

Masamune watched him mix into the crowd until he was out of sight, looking around for himself then.

“ _Alright_ , where to start…”


	4. Fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added kurotenko’s cover to Chapter 1′s page ^^
> 
> Also, figured that Yasu should be using a stage name instead of his actual name, so I switched his actual name with ‘Tosho’ in Ch.3. For the ones who had read it before the edit, sorry for the confusion! OAO;;
> 
> Anyway, Masamune action and some slight nsfw ahead, so careful~ ouo;;

【 **Chapter 4: Fun** 】

Masamune scanned the surroundings. The strip club they were in seemed to have a balcony, so he made his way towards the stairs leading to it, thinking that it would be a good place to start since he should be able to get a good view of the entire room from up there.

The scantily clad waitresses he passed by seemed to find him charming, so he played and flirted with them a little. After all, his main purpose of coming here was to relieve stress, so why hold back?

He slipped some tips into the cleavage of the girl who had passed him some drinks. She looked a little surprised, but kissed him lustfully at his neck in return, biting down a little. Her dark eyelids and long lashes fluttered seductively at him, the girl giving him a suggestive smile before she turned and left to serve the other guests.

Masamune continued drifting towards the stairs in that fashion, feeling quite pleased by the service he got along the way. By the time he had actually reached his destination, he was covered in lipstick and lip prints all over his exposed skin. The people around him looked funny at him a little.

“ _Shit_ , might have done too much...,” he muttered to himself, pulling a clean handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe the vermillion marks away. Huffing, he carried himself up the stairs once he was done, leaning against the balcony railing and looking down at the various events going on below.

A new set of pole dancers had gone up the stage, continuing the night’s performance. A lot of people with expensive-looking suits and dresses were dining below as they watched, everyone guarded tightly by their own bodyguards despite the fact that weapons weren’t allowed into the building, reflecting just how dangerous the city, or rather its people, were capable of being.

Masamune could easily tell even from this distance which clump of people were the biggest shots, just by seeing the blinding glitter of their extravagance and the number of their bodyguards. But aside from those, he could also see the poorer members of the less influential gangs mingling in the hall. He was amused that they had insisted and managed to come here despite the entrance fee costing a fortune. Darn, this place must be really popular!

Slowly beginning to get engrossed in his observations, Masamune scanned for Motochika for fun. He found him down there a little away from where they had parted ways, already beginning to form his own cluster of girls.

 _‘That little shit’s certainly a magnet, alright. Hahaha,’_ Masamune thought, grinning to himself, entertained.

Taking a sip of wine from the thin glass he was holding, he scanned again towards the opposite direction, a little out of the sea of people and nearer to the walls, wondering if he would find something interesting if he looked hard enough. After drifting about a little, something caught his attention and he raised an eyebrow in interest.

“Tosho...?” he mumbled to himself.

He spotted the popular dancer from earlier, standing there talking with two other men. They were standing at the room’s corner, hidden away from the others’ view by some big folding screens which were part of the rooms decor, but certainly not from Masamune’s viewing point. They were probably having some sort of private talk. The young man was backing him, so he could get a clear view of his back.

“ _Damn_ , that’s some nice ass~,” Masamune whistled, chuckling to himself as he stared.

He was having his own fun fantasizing to himself when he saw one of the two bigger men suddenly grabbing the dancer, twisting his arm behind his back, gagging him with a piece of cloth, and then smashing him up against the wall forcefully.

“ _Fuck_!” Masamune cursed, seeing how the young man was soon struggling in the two men’s grip as they began touching him. He was faced with indecision for awhile, remembering that Motochika had told him not to cause any trouble. But when he looked down again and felt certain that he was the only one who saw the affair and was probably the only one who could do something about it, he decided to go.

Masamune slammed his unfinished glass of wine onto a nearby table and rushed downstairs.

\-----

Downstairs in the dimly lit corner, the dancer groaned and bit down at his gag as he was held down against the wall by the back of his neck. His cheeks flushed a little, closing his eyes and frowning as the two men continued to touch and grope at him carelessly and roughly from behind through his tight-fitting clothes.

“Trust us, Tosho, we’re going to make you feel good, so play with us, won’t you? We’re just trying to have some fun~,” the man holding him down asked, leaning in to press and rub himself onto his rear. He could feel the man’s messy, unshaven beard against his skin and smell the alcohol in his breath as his gag was removed for a reply.

“Well? We even have all the money here if you want,” the man asked drunkenly, hand trailing down his abs to rub at his crotch. His partner-in-crime laughed beside him, entertained. But the dancer only returned them a calm and cold stare, not even perturbed the slightest by their doings.

“I’d appreciate if you’d get your hands off me this instant, sirs. I don’t think average street thugs like you would even have enough money to buy one minute with me, so out of my sight,” he demanded firmly.

The two men looked a little shaken and surprised by his words. Clearly the first time that they had seen someone like him show so much pride and authority.

“Besides....,” he looked away from them with disinterest, continuing.

“Your dicks are too small.”

“WHAAAAATTT--?!!” The men behind him shouted angrily.

That definitely got them, alright. If they weren’t sure how to behave earlier, they weren’t anymore.

“You’re going to regret having said that! Now get ready because we’re going to fuck you senseless whether you want it or not. And we’ll make sure it hurts!” The man behind him spat, raising a tightly clenched fist.

The dancer braced himself for the hit, only to hear someone suddenly coming there, grabbing the unsuspecting fellow by the wrist and stopping the blow. He opened his eyes, seeing a sharp-looking man with an eyepatch standing there, coming to his rescue.

“...?!” The two men looked surprised at the sudden intruder. The newcomer let out a small whistle.

“Treating such a pretty face to your ugly fist? _Not cool_ ,” Masamune grinned. He strengthened the grip he had on the man’s wrist into a crushing one.

“GwaaAAHH!!” He screamed, letting go of the dancer and trying to pull away.

Once he did, Masamune’s grin turned into a deadly smirk. He pulled at his wrist hard and used the momentum to fling the man onto the folding screens next to them. The man crashed there, causing the screens to topple over and smash violently onto the ground, creating a huge racket.

The dancers on the stage stopped and looked. The audience stood up and some of the waitresses screamed at the sudden fight breaking out. In the distance, Motochika perked, looking at the direction the noise had come from with worry.

Back at the scene, the thug on the ground was heavily bruised, groaning and grunting as he struggled amongst the fallen and broken folding screens, having hit his head during the crash.

“You! How dare you do that to brother?!!” The other shouted, readying his fists and running straight for Masamune.

‘ _Lowlives_ ,’ Masamune thought to himself without breaking a sweat. Average scums like these were easy for him.

He waited until the man reached him, evading his incoming punch and grabbing his wrist with ease. The man looked at him in surprise, eyes widening in fear as he saw his obvious, impending doom coming.

“ _So long~_ ,” Masamune told him with a sadistic grin, using the opening as a chance to deliver a very hard punch to the man’s face. His knuckles sent the man’s teeth flying out, and the man himself after them, crashing roughly onto the ground and trailing snot and blood across the expensive carpets.

The fight died down after that, but the chatter of the guests increased as they began surrounding the scene in a circle, wanting to know what happened. Masamune ignored them, turning to look at the dancer who had taken some distance away from them to avoid getting hit during the scuffle. Masamune approached him with a friendly grin.

“Tosho, _am I right_? Sorry for the violent display, but I hope that you’re alright. One with such quality and class as you shouldn’t be wasted on scumbags like them,” he said in a suave manner, a little flirt in his voice.

“...Stupid,” the dancer murmured at him with a little frown.

“... _Excuse...me_?” Masamune raised a confused eyebrow at the sudden comment. But before he could react, the dancer’s hand reached out to him and snatched the Maeda flower badge that he had on his collar.

“ _Hey!_ ” He shouted at the act, but his next actions was prevented by some shouting he heard from behind him. Then it immediately dawned upon him what the dancer had meant by his earlier words.

“Step aside! I say STEP ASIDE!”

Masamune turned to look in horror when he heard the commanding voice, his face turning pale and his eye wide open as cold sweat began to form on his forehead.

Three barbaric and burly Oda guards, coming with their guns, shoving aside any guest roughly if they didn’t listen to them and make way, come to catch the ones ruining the party.

Normally, he’d have told them to bring it on. But as it was him unarmed and them with weapons, this time Masamune's common sense told him to run. However, with the lack of place to hide near where he was standing, he decided against it, knowing the he’d be gunned down for sure if he tried to escape.

Eventually, the three guards finished wading through the huge crowd and arrived at where he was standing, looking eager and more than ready to do their job and get rid of the problem.

Their leader, the biggest, bear of a man standing in front of the other two, scanned the scene, easily understanding what had happened. He had a robust face but firm and bold eyes. His thick brows knitted together into a strict, unimpressed frown when as he looked to Masamune and the two thugs on the ground.

“The three of you. You’re under arrest for causing a racket and panic, as well as for disturbing the proceedings and public peace,” he said with authority, addressing the three of them, “Now come along quietly!”

“W-Wait, _what_?! I-I was just trying to--,” Masamune looked back and forth between the thugs and the dancer behind him, trying to find some words to save himself.

The Oda was the big shot here, so any crime against them, at their place nonetheless, must be a very serious offense. If he got arrested here, he had no idea whether he would be executed, used as target practice, enslaved or probably even cut up to have his organs sold in the black market.

Masamune yelped and struggled when one of the guards came to him to grab his arms and twist them behind his back, without even listening to his protests. His body felt limp when a warning was barked out at him and a gun was shoved roughly to the side of his head. There was no escaping.

‘ _Goodbye, father. Goodbye, Kojuro. And goodbye, Motochika... This Masamune had been such a bad, useless boy...,_ ’ he thought, the words ringing in his head as he saw an image of his father laughing at his stupidity, his recklessness landing him in trouble once again.

He was about to berate himself even more when he heard the dancer call out from behind him, catching his attention.

“Ikeda-san, please wait!”

“Hmm? Tosho-sama,” the leader of the guards, Ikeda Tsuneoki, turned towards him and nodded politely, “They must have caused quite the trouble for you. We’ll see to it that they get punished accordingly.”

“Ikeda-san, I appreciate your kind regards, but it’s not that,” the dancer said again, looking towards Masamune.

“Those two thugs, they were picking on me. This young man here was just trying to help. He seemed to have come here only for the first time and was still learning his ways, so please forgive his actions,” he requested. But the guard only shook his head at him.

“Tosho-sama, you know that I can’t do that. The rules are the rules. Any ruckus should have been left to the guards instead of partaking in it. If we are lenient even for once, we don’t know how many more of these worthless scums will crop up in future, so--”

The dancer reached out on his tiptoes and kissed the guard on the lips passionately then, surprising and silencing him. A few seconds passed like that before the former pulled away slowly.

“Please, Ikeda-saannn...?” He purred, looking up at now dreamy eyes through half lidded ones as he placed his hands on the bigger man’s chest, smiling darkly.

“If you do, I’ll let you and those two over there play with me for awhile after your shift tonight. Free... of... charge...,” he rolled the last words on his tongue, saying them in a tantalizing whisper, a hand reaching up to stroke the other’s red, heated cheek softly with his cold fingertips.

Tsuneoki was blushing, shuddering, and sweating by then, a huge war seemingly having broken out inside his head as he weighed his options. The other two guards were shooting glances at each other, feeling equally cornered, as if they were about to let something big slip and couldn’t stand the thought. Masamune gulped down hard, waiting for his answer as his whole life depended on it.

“...Tch, fine,” the head guard finally replied with reluctance, looking away as he gave in, “If even Tosho-sama is willing to go that far, then this person must be quite meaningful. I’ll let him go just this time.”

The dancer smiled a beaming smile at him then, jumping to hug him and plant a small kiss on his cheek, making the guard turn even redder, “Ikeda-san! Thank you! You’re so precious!”

The guard holding Masamune in place allowed him to go then, after being ordered by their leader. Masamune grunted, stretching and flexing his stiff arms and back a little, a little disbelieving that a stripper could sway the feared Oda guards this much. But _dude_ , that was dirty! He thought, recalling the deal that was made to free him, the image destroying his head.

He caught Tsuneoki shooting a sharp glare at him, conveying that he had his eyes on him were he to start any more trouble. He headed off with his men and the other two thugs after that, disappearing into the crowd. Masamune sighed in relief and made a mental note to lay low for a while. Seeing that the show was over, the gathering crowd dispersed and the proceedings of the hall carried on as usual.

“Hey!” The dancer called out to him.

Masamune looked towards him, just in time to catch his formerly stolen badge as it was thrown back at him.

“... _Thanks_ ,” he said, more for his rescue rather than the return of his possession. He was about to pin it back to his collar when the dancer stopped him.

“Oh, no, _don’t_ put it back up,” he warned.

“You don’t want people to start asking about your non-existent bodyguards and telling the Maeda boss that one of ‘their people’ was causing trouble, do you? Nice try coming here with a fake badge, but once they found out that you’re not one of them, oh boy...,” the dancer chuckled, “It would be safer to pretend to be a normal street thug now that you’ve got everyone’s attention.”

Masamune clicked his tongue in annoyance, seeing that the dancer saw through his cover. But he finally understood why the badge was taken from him earlier. If the guards had seen it, the first person they would call would certainly be the head of the Maeda, and then he’d be shot dead for fraud. He looked cautiously towards the other. There was certainly something much more to him than just an average stripper.

“What now, going to report me personally, then?” Masamune asked.

“Well... You had done something nice, so... No,” the dancer leaned in closer, placing his hands on Masamune’s shoulders and nuzzling at him, taking in his smell. The smell of the street, dirt, sweat and a tinge of blood that seemed to be ever present on him. Masamune closed his eyes, reflexively wrapping his arms around the other’s back as he took in his contrastingly sweet smell.

“If you want to come here as a big shot next time, bring some bodyguards to make it look convincing. Even if you see trouble, the guards would handle it, so don’t bother. Just lean back and enjoy the show. And most importantly...,” the dancer advised, “Don’t play with the waitresses and waiters. They’re pretty, but they’re too cheap for you and it shows that you have no money.”

Masamune felt him grin against his neck, teeth grazing ever so lightly at the remnants of the red lipstick there. He shuddered a little from the contact, before pulling back slightly to gaze into the other’s eyes. He saw the warmest amber eyes, seemingly having a glow of their own. He wondered for a moment how such kind eyes could exist in an underworld like this.

“Well, in that case, I should probably be aiming for someone more like you, then,” he grinned, wrapping his arms around the other’s waist, pulling him closer slightly until their bodies touched.

“ _Care for a drink?_ ” He asked. The dancer just laughed at him.

“Haha, maybe next time,” he answered, smiling up at him.

“Dokuganryu, Masamune.”

“...?!” Masamune jumped a little in surprise at his actual identity being known. The dancer pulled away, beginning to walk off, leaving him gaping and full of questions.

“My last advice for you would be to use that English sparingly. Only one person does that in this entire Ura-mikawa, from what I have heard, and he had been making noise enough to come into public notice,” he stopped in his tracks, turning back to look at Masamune with a sunny grin.

“I hope the next time we meet, you’ll have your own gang’s golden badge so you don’t have to put up any pretense anymore. It’s safest that way. I like your guts, so I’ll be looking forward to our next meeting!” He said, before turning and walking away.

Masamune watched him, slowly relaxing himself before whistling after the other.

“ _Damn_ , I’m beat this round, alright,” he sighed with a grin, determined to pay the other back in full the next time they see each other. As for tonight, he certainly had had enough fun.


	5. Nothing to Fall Back to

Motochika finally made it to Masamune after forcing his way through the dispersing crowd, meeting him with a scared face and asking if he was alright. So Masamune explained what happened, earning a deep sigh of relief from him.

They had left the strip club and gone home after that, Motochika wishing that he had seen the dancer and the events that his friend had described.

“But rather than that, I’m just glad that you didn’t get arrested!” He said as he drove. Once they arrived home, they had passed out on the bed almost immediately, choosing to rest and wait until the next day to share the information that they had collected.

—–

“Yes, so what I’m saying is that we need to gain influence, before we can even dream of doing anything. It’s much more complicated than I thought,” Motochika said in the morning, setting down his cup of water on the old, somewhat broken wooden table in the living room of what they had come to call as their main base.

It was an aged, broken down traditional house at the outskirts of the underground city, previously belonging to a small gang so weak Masamune couldn’t remember its name or its members. A living space being one of the basic needs for survival, driving them out and claiming the place as their own was the first thing the two had done when they came down here, painting their own crests over the former.

The dingy house was modest, old, dirty, and looked as though it might break down even if the slightest fistfight were to take place in it. The lamp on the ceiling was dim and flickering, its faded light attracting moths and termites to swarm annoyingly at it nevertheless. Holes big and small dotted the rice paper door along with huge tears at the parts with the most damage. The stinking grounds of their yard and gates were the party place where rats, flies and cockroaches gather to feast, more and more hidden trash showing up no matter how much they had tried to clean the place.

It was far different and certainly much less comfortable than the luxurious mansion that he was used to living in at Oushuu, and Masamune loathed the idea of even calling this garbage can his living space. But he guessed that having an old, dirty roof to stay under would be much better than having none, so he held back his million complaints.

Even so, he would still need some time to adjust to the eternally dark surroundings, considering that this was underground with only manmade lights, where the mornings and the nights were almost equally dim, save for the sunlight that filtered down from the occasional ventilation holes in the stone ceiling.

Motochika, seated on the floor, looked around at the room they were in, sighing.

“Yep, what I had heard from the crowd I’ve collected last night, it seemed that first, you’ll need to be quite a big name to even propose an alliance with the Oda or the Toyotomi. We’re currently at the ‘random street thugs’ level, so we’ll need _a lot_ of work. There’s no way they’ll take in a gang that can only manage to have this trash dump as their main base!” He elaborated, hitting the table with his fist in annoyance, only to freak out and regret it when the table began shaking and almost gave in. He sighed in relief when it didn’t.

“……,” Masamune stood up, leaning against the wall and looking to the ceiling, thinking to himself for awhile.

“How long will it take till we get big enough for their taste?” He asked.

“Hmm… Some twenty, thirty times our current size? We’ll need to stretch our turf big enough and get nearer to the center of town. But that’s going to need a lot of men and money. Probably gonna take us a whole year or mooore…,” Motochika whined, planting his palms onto his face as he leaned down onto the floor in exasperation.

“No shortcuts?” Masamune asked, folding his arms and looking down at him, “Like… Something that you and I can manage by ourselves without using that much resources.”

“……,” Motochika thought for awhile, before sitting back up and replying with a little uncertainty, “Well… Actually there’s this one thing…”

Masamune raised an eyebrow at the doubtful voice, but asked him to continue nevertheless. “On with it. I’ll listen.”

“Nah, it’s probably too risky. Let’s just keep doing what we always had and increase our turf slowly,” Motochika replied.

“……,” Masamune walked over to him, standing in front of him with insistent eyes. The other shook his head with equal stubbornness.

“No, and that’s final,” Motochika told him firmly, “It would either kill you or get disabled your whole life. I’m not telling you any more about it.”

Then as if ignoring him, Masamune reached down to grab him by the collar. He went on to pull his protesting friend up and slam his back against the wall, glaring him in the eye.

“Saikai, you’re the one who said that we don’t have time for this. What if the Oda and Toyotomi war started before we could get strong enough? We’ll get crushed! If there’s even a small chance for us to prevent that, we should take it.”

Motochika only glared back at him, “Look around for once, Dokuganryu! If you get killed here because of ramming in recklessly like you always do, it’ll just be the same thing. Calm down a little!”

Both of them could feel their breathing quickening, their temper increasing as they glared at each other. But at the same time, they knew how frustrated the other was, equally unsure and uncertain about the future. This was the first time they were out on their own and they had never felt so weak, everything around them seeming dangerous no matter which step they decided to take. And no one to tell them what was right or wrong anymore.

_‘If only Kojuro is here right now…’_

Masamune gritted his teeth and looked away, irritated. Slowly, he released his grip on the other. He allowed some space between them and turned away, pocketing his hands.

“Tch… Sorry for that…,” he said, a little mumbled.

“…It’s okay,” Motochika replied, looking the other way, letting the sour aftertaste slowly fade away.

“If… If you don’t mind, I’d still like to hear about it,” Masamune continued a little more gently, “I’m this gang’s leader now. I want to hear it out and decide for myself. You can advise me or correct me as much as you want after that.”

“…Alright. I suppose that learning how to choose would also be a good experience,” Motochika nodded, before inviting the other to sit down with him and pouring some more water into both their cups. Once they had calmed down enough, he started his explanation again.

“Well, I heard that both the Oda and the Toyotomi have this ‘Cage Match’ tournament sort of thing once every three months. The Oda runs one in their own territory, while the Toyotomi have their own in theirs. One’s coming up just around the corner.”

“Both rookies and pro fighters will gather in there for a one-on-one match. Supervised directly by the bigger gangs, they’ll offer a chance for you to join or ally with them if they think you’re promising enough. The Oda and the Toyotomi boss themselves will be present to watch the final match in their own area,” he explained.

“Use whatever weapon you want, huge prize money for the winner. It’s almost like a tradition down here and people swarm there to watch and gamble like crazy each time. Of course, the one making the most money out of it would be the Oda and the Toyotomi, who ran the show in the first place. It also fulfilled their purpose of scouting for diamonds in the rough–new members to make their gang even stronger.”

Masamune thought about it for awhile before replying, “Sounds inviting enough. Any reason I shouldn’t be joining?”

“There are no rules. The fight’s supposed to end if one side was unable to fight anymore. But more often than not, people fight to the death. Brutal, messy ones, too,” Motochika said, “They even went to the extent of gambling on whether one side was going to die or not…“

“Well…,” Masamune said, setting his cup of water down onto the table, “Think I’ll be joining.”

He interrupted Motochika before he could protest at the quick decision.

“I trust our fighting skills, Motochika. How much had we trained and how many fights have we won before this? Sometimes I think we’re just a little afraid because we have no one watching our backs anymore like we used to, and nothing to fall back to. But we need to be able to learn how to stand up for ourselves, too,” he said confidently, “I won’t force you to join me if you don’t want to. In that case, watch over our base for me till I come home with a trophy.”

“……,” Motochika can only sigh, before smiling up at him, “Well, guess if you’ve said that, there’s no changing your mind. You’re confident, Masamune. I understand a little better now why your men trusted you so much when you chose to revolt against the Ashikaga despite the idea being crazy.”

He stood up, hands on his hips as he puffed out his chest. “Well, if you’re going, I’ll be joining, too!” He declared, “I came here to help you, so I wanna be of some use. The least I could do is improve your chances of winning by reducing your opponents. If we ended up having to fight each other, I’ll just give up to you so you can carry on. How about that?”

Masamune grinned at the suggestion, “ _Oh_ , wouldn’t that be nice, Saikai?! I’ll be looking forward to having you then. _On to the thrill_!”


	6. The Other Side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People leaving the kudos, thank you~! ;u;

【 **Chapter 6: The Other Side】**

Still unsure whether they should join the Oda side or the Toyotomi side of the tournaments, Masamune had asked Motochika if they could see how things went in the Toyotomi side first.

“Buckle your seatbelt, then. We’re going to the opposite side of town!” Motochika had declared, and off they went in their old, junkyard car.

If the Oda side of the underground city was rather dark and dingy, with suspicious thugs lurking in every narrow alley, the Toyotomi side of Ura-mikawa was quite the opposite.

As if they had crossed a very visible divide, the moment they passed the center of town and entered Toyotomi territory, everything was suddenly bright, shiny, grand and expensive.

Lamps and proper lighting lit the streets. Bigger holes had even been dug on the ceiling for better ventilation. The Toyotomi patrol guards and the people who passed them by stood tall and proud, unlike the mostly hunched and secretive hoodlums they were used to on the other side where they came from. Everyone’s faces looked clean and had an air of being civilized and well-educated.

Masamune opened the car window and sucked in the much fresher air.

Sure they were only allowed to drive through the outskirts because people of their status, especially outsiders, weren’t allowed to go all the way inside for safety purposes, but to him, it was the closest he had seen a place to being like Oushuu since he entered this underground city, so he whistled and stuck excitedly to the window as he looked out to take in the wonderful sights.

“ _Dude!_ If only I had known that the Toyotomi side was _this_ nice, we should have entered and started spreading our influence from the West Gate! They look like they take good care of their territory. Maybe we should just ally with them!” He said with interest, until he noticed that Motochika seemed to be driving at an increasing speed.

“…Motochika, why are you driving so fast? Lower the speed a little so I can get a better look at our surroundings!” He requested.

“Hey, hey, not so fast. Trust me, this is the slowest I can drive without offending anyone. And if the Toyotomi were really _that_ nice, everyone would’ve allied with ‘em. Just take a closer look around,” Motochika told him.

“…?” Masamune did as he was told, looking back out at the streets.

The people and guards they passed shot them frowns and irritated looks, their dirty car clearly looking out of place compared to the posh surroundings, as if they wanted them to leave quickly. In the distance, Masamune could see some open grounds that looked like a city square, with a raised platform in the middle and a lot of people gathering in a circle around it. A few people were kneeling on the floor in the center, with several armed men around them.

“Ah, public executions. They’re doing it again. Most likely dudes who messed up with some missions or people who tried to go against the boss…,” Motochika explained, “Some people around here called it ‘entertainment’, from what I’ve heard. My informant said that if you want to ally with the Toyotomi, you’ll need to swear loyalty and serve them well. They won’t take in a second grade. Quite a high bar and a high price to pay if you’ve failed them…”

“……,” Masamune looked on quietly, certainly feeling the bar for their alliance being raised. He pulled his head back in, closed the window, and leaned back on his seat, feeling a little less excited.

“…Fuck,” Motochika cursed suddenly.

“What?” Masamune asked with disinterest.

“Fuel’s running out. Completely forgot about it. There’s a station right over there, so I’ll pull over for awhile. Hold on,” Motochika told him, slowing down and making a turn before stopping once he had arrived.

Motochika turned off the car’s engine, both of them stepping out. Masamune went to the back of the car and leaned against it, folding his arms and waiting for his friend to finish refueling. In boredom, he scanned the surroundings. His gaze stopped at a small group of people crowding over something across the street. Judging from their neat uniforms and the Paulownia Crests that they bore on their shoulders, they seemed to be Toyotomi guards or higher ups.

—–

“You! Useless! Human!”

The leader of the group spoke, his angelic face deceptive of the anger that lies within him as he brought his sword’s scabbard down onto a cowering form on the ground with every word. Loud metallic clangs echoed as the scabbard collided hard against the huge pan that the small man on the floor was desperately trying to use as a shield.

“P-Please forgive me, Mitsunari-samaaaa…!!” The young man on the floor cried, sobs shaking his voice and tears flowing down his face endlessly, “I-It won’t happen again. I promise..! Uwaaa….”

Mitsunari looked no less unamused, using a foot to step down on the pot and grind the man against the floor, causing him to cry in fear even more.

“Silence, Hideaki! I don’t want to hear your excuses. Hideyoshi-sama had come personally to your place yesterday because we heard that you serve good food. You should have felt honored, but instead, you served us that shit! How daring of you to even do that!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Hideaki struggled and writhed, “When I heard that Hideyoshi-sama himself would be coming, I got so scared and nervous I couldn’t cook properly! But trust me, I tried my best! Aaaaaa…!!”

“Now you even dared to call _that_ your best?! I’ll execute you and present your head to Hideyoshi-sama as a gift to make up for your incompetence! Guards!” Mitsunari ordered, stepping back.

The guards looked at each other for a moment, a little unsure of whether such extreme measures were actually necessary for what Hideaki had committed. But it was their orders, so they followed, lest they wanted to be the next ones beheaded. The loss of this man’s life wouldn’t make much of a difference to their daily proceedings, anyway.

“No! Nonononono…!! NOOO!! HyaaaaAAAAHHHH—!!!” Hideaki squirmed, crying as he tried to back away. He screamed when he felt the guards’ strong hands grip onto his arms.

“ _Yo!_ ”

A call from behind stopped their actions. They looked back.

Masamune and Motochika stood there, hands on their hips as they looked at the situation with judging eyes.

“Don’t you think that that’s too heavy a punishment for something so light? The little guy’s sorry for it already, so give him a break,” Masamune said.

Motochika nodded after him. Normally, he’d be telling Masamune to not get involved with the guards, but he just couldn’t sit back watching them bully the poor guy.

Mitsunari walked up to them, the irritation clearly showing in his sharp eyes. He studied them from head to toe, having no problem in telling where they had come from once he saw their rather cheap and dirty clothing, and he could tell especially from their bad attitude.

“Outsiders like you had better not look for trouble with us. I’m not in a good mood right now, and you’re not protected by Toyotomi laws, so I have the freedom to simply stab you to death here, and no one would care,” he growled menacingly, his elegant fingers curling around the hilt of his sword as a warning.

“Hahaha, as if that would scare us, scrawny. We’re bored anyway,” Masamune laughed. Motochika glared at Mitsunari and the guards cautiously. The two of them slid their fingers towards their guns.

“ _So bring it on,_ ” Masamune smirked challengingly.

As if that was the signal, everyone suddenly dropped into a battle stance, sword unsheathed and guns drawn out.

A glance at the other guards showed that they didn’t dare to join, keeping their distance as if they were afraid of something. Puzzled at first, Masamune soon found out the reason as Mitsunari easily dodged his bullets with a demon-like speed, seemingly appearing in front of him the next moment, ready to deliver a slash. Masamune’s eye widened in surprise as Mitsunari’s sharp, ruthless eyes met his.

Motochika came in with a flying kick from the side, forcing the silver-haired swordsman to turn and block the attack with an arm before getting knocked back from the force.

“Don’t just stand there!” Motochika warned him, before turning and immediately shooting at their foe, not wanting to give him a chance to recover.

“Tch,” Masamune moved back too, keeping a distance and attacking again, trying his best not to get into Mitsunari’s reach.

But no matter what they threw at him, Mitsunari danced swiftly and gracefully through their bullets and attacks it was almost unreal. Masamune evaded another counter attack with difficulty, the edge of Mitsunari’s sword making a cut across his cheek.

The three of them stopped after a few more exchanges that way, standing still and trying to catch their breath, neither side wanting to believe or accept the fact that they were fighting at a more-or-less equal level. A look around their surroundings showed a mess that had already built up without their notice, bullet and slash marks everywhere.

The dust that had been whipped up off the streets began to settle back down.

Mitsunari frowned and gritted his teeth in annoyance, seemingly pissed that this fight was taking much longer than he had expected. He held his sword up to get ready to fight again. Masamune and Motochika reloaded their guns, preparing themselves as well.

But just before they started the battle again, an expensive-looking white sedan drove by and pulled over near them. Mitsunari’s eyes widened in surprise.

Once the car had fully stopped, its driver, a big man bearing a Toyotomi crest on his neat clothes, stepped out, going to the back to open the passenger seat’s door, keeping his head bowed down.

“…?” Masamune and Motochika wondered who it was, tensing and keeping their guard up.

The next moment, a young, beautiful man dressed all in white stepped out of the car gracefully, the purple X-shaped mask he wore and a riding crop he had in hand making him stand out.

His form was quite light and petite, but he had an unmistakable air of authority around him. A dainty smile gracing his pretty face as his long lashes fluttered lightly, Masamune and Motochika would have mistaken him for a woman if it weren’t for his male military-style clothes and his voice.

“Ah, so there you are, Mitsunari-kun,” he said, his voice calm and smooth as he walked over to them.

“H-Hanbei-sama,” Mitsunari called out.

He immediately sheathed his sword and knelt down, keeping his head low as if he had seen a god and didn’t dare to look up, as it would be too insolent. His men followed suit and knelt down as well. Masamune and Motochika looked around with a little confusion, but they knew better than to ram in at the moment, so they lowered their guns and straightened themselves, still cautious. Hanbei caught sight of them and studied the surroundings.

“Did I come at a bad time?” He asked, absently playing with the crop he was holding.

“No, they were just some street rats. Nothing could be more important than your purpose of coming here, Hanbei-sama,” Mitsunari replied.

“Hmm… Is that so?” Hanbei folded his hands. Looking around a little more, he finally spotted the shivering Hideaki, crying, crouching, and desperately trying to hide himself behind his pot and the guards, attempting to not be seen by him.

“Hmm~ As expected, you seemed to have come for yesterday’s payback,” Hanbei said, “It’s a trivial thing, so you can just forget about him now. You should learn to let go of some things, Mitsunari-kun. Fufu,” he chuckled.

“But Hanbei-sama, I cannot allow him to go scot free after not serving Hideyoshi-sama properly! Please give me the permission to see this through!” Mitsunari protested, without raising his head.

“Haha, you’re always loyal, eager and dutiful, Mitsunari. That’s what we like about you and treasure you for. But while I understand your feelings, I’d ask you to come with us now. We’ve got a more suitable job for someone of your caliber and you’d be doing us a greater service through that. Please see me in my office after lunch,” Hanbei told him, with a gentleness as if he was talking to his own child.

“…Yes, understood,” Mitsunari nodded obediently, despite feeling a little reluctant. He shot Hideaki a glare from the corner of his eye. The small man shuddered and cowered even more, putting his arms over his head for protection.

“Good to hear. I shall be going first, then. Looking forward to seeing you,” Hanbei said, smiling at him.

The white haired man looked towards Masamune and Motochika then, giving them a small smile as well, before turning and going back into his car. Mitsunari and his men didn’t stand or even look up until they were sure that the white sedan had driven out of sight.

“Heh, I suppose you’re pretty good…,” Masamune addressed Mitsunari about their battle, putting his two guns back into their holsters. Mitsunari only stood up and glared at him.

“Hmph! If you were fighting alone without your friend’s help, I’d have turned you into thin slices by now. Don’t even _dare_ to think of us as equals, you worthless snake!” He hissed aggressively, pointing at him with the hilt of his sword.

“ _W- WHAAAT?!!_ ” Masamune yelled back angrily. Motochika grabbed his arms to stop him from flying straight into the other.

“The next time you try to step in my way, or Hideyoshi-sama’s way, I’ll show you no mercy and I’ll hang your remains for public display!”

The silver-haired man gave him a final warning, before turning to leave with the guards. He kicked hard at the pot covering Hideaki’s back as he passed him, making a loud clang and drawing a fearful cry from the small man, before muttering some curses and walking further away, disappearing at a turn.

“Grrrhhhhh…,” Masamune fumed like a boiling pot in Motochika’s hold, starting to think of what comebacks he could say the next time he were to meet Mitsunari.

“Hey, let it go,” Motochika told him. “Think we have something more important to take care of right now,” he said, tilting his head in Hideaki’s direction.

The small man was sitting leaned up against a wall, hugging his pot and crying like anything. Masamune sighed, relaxing himself and heading there with Motochika.

“You okay?” He asked once they stood next to him.

“UwaaaaaAAAAAAA….!!” Hideaki nodded as he continued crying, still feeling scared and unable to hold back his tears. He had just narrowly avoided death.

—–

They just stood there until Hideaki managed to calm down and stop crying.

“T-Thank you…!” He said, sobbing away as he wiped off the last of his tears into the sleeves of his red coat. Motochika shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it! You looked like you were being given some unfair punishments, so we can’t just sit with it,” He said with a grin.

“Uuu… You’re too nice! Are you real?” Hideaki asked, his eyes beginning to water again.

“Whoa, it’s okay now, just a small act of kindness. Hahaha,” Masamune laughed.

“S-SMALL?! That’s not small at all!” Hideaki exclaimed in disbelief, standing up.

“Geez, you must really not be from around here. That just now was Ishida Mitsunari, one of the top members of the Toyotomi Family serving directly under the Toyotomi’s Head! You could have gotten _killed_ for going against him. I was quite surprised that you were even able to match up to him! I couldn’t watch the fight at all because I feared that every passing second would have been your last!” He explained frantically.

“And the other one was Takenaka Hanbei-sama, Hideyoshi’s right hand man. Glad you didn’t do anything crazy in his presence!” He continued.

“… _Oh_ ,” Masamune and Motochika said, laughing a little nervously now, finally realizing what they had jumped into just a few moments ago. Hideaki sighed.

“Well, still, it was quite something, and I want to thank you both somehow, so have this,” he said, passing a small card to Masamune, who took it and studied it.

“That’s my restaurant’s name card. I run one around here and it’s always jolly inside!” He said, beaming proudly, “The address is written at the back of that card. Stop by some time if you’re passing this area. I’ll give you special discounts!”

Hearing that, Masamune and Motochika looked at each other and smiled back at him, glad that things should be going alright for him after this.

“Alright, we’ll hold on to this. Thanks!”

 


End file.
